I procured the peppers (bell, or sweet, peppers in green, red, yellow, and orange) from an organic foods co-op. Three in each color. After washing them thoroughly, I remove the seeds and membranes, chop them, and put them in a single layer on waxed paper sprayed with Pam on a cookie sheet. The pepper chunks are also lightly sprayed with Pam to prevent drying; after freezing they are bagged and kept frozen until I'm ready to use them. I also freeze onions (sweet ones, I have Walla Walla and Vidalia in the freezer at the moment) and celery. Since all of these will be used in cooking there is no need to keep them crisp. When I nee some I reach into the bag and plop in a handful or whatever is called for -- usually a handful.

Well, I just blew my blood sugar sky-high. Seems like we were transferring pure Vermont maple syrup from one container to another, smaller, one. It overfilled and some was spilled, but I was told to "suck off the top of that so I can close it." I did, and WOW! was it good. I will probably become a heated gas molecule for the rest of the evening.

(Having worked for 12 years in a maple sugaring community I am familiar with the syrup. This was good stuff.)

I dismantled my old computer setup; keyboard, mouse, and monitor are in the storage closet and the hard drive is in a box of old drives that need to be discarded one of these days via a secure system. And the computer is in the car waiting to be dropped off at Goodwill. A lot of Mudcat posts went through that faithful old device.

I don't know about all of this fancy sucking on bottles of maple syrup; that sounds unsanitary.

I was supposed to be one of the space-chimps who were sent into space before Alan Shepard's first manned flight. My parents volunteered me for the program. It took the folks at NASA three months to figure out that what they had was not a chimpanzee, but a ten year old boy with big ears and a fondness for saying "Ook-ook! Eek-eek!" (the result of watching too many old Tarzan films on Saturday mornings).

Another way you can help pass yourself off as an ape is to wear well used black or brown leather gloves on your feet. It gives the impression of ape feet very nicely. Combine this with the traditional arm motions, capering about, scratching, examining others for fleas and ticks, and uttering "OOK! EEK!" frequently and you can really bring out your inner Chimp in a convincing manner.

Ah Specisism. How close you are to racism. We could someday have make fun of ............. day. Trump has filled in the blank already with cerebral palsy, women victims, nationality, little people, Down Syndrome, Evil con men democrats, media... actually we already have right here - 'make fun of facts day'

A neighbor took LH's suggestions. Now he hangs from a tree with a banana up his...well, it's not how bananas are usually consumed. He took to shouting "OOK! OOK! EEK!" while flinging his feces. Something had to be done, and when gentle remonstrances failed he was regulated. You see, when he started fecalflinging everyone thought he was planning a career in politics....

Archaeologists use the post-atomic bomb line to date things. The archaeological work I'm doing in my yard right now is to assemble a collection of no-longer-recognizable items the dogs have chewed to pieces to put together an exhibit. There won't be carbon-dating because most of these things are plastic items that wouldn't have been made of plastic before the time of the atomic bombs and nuclear testing.

...which leads one to ponder exactly what dogs chewed on prior to the widespread use of plastic containers. Most of the containers plastics replaced were not chewable. I've never seen a dog chew on a glass soft-drink bottle.

I've heard tell of dogs fetching sticks, but have never actually seen one do so. Mine always seems to fetch Frisbies, store bought dog toys, plastic milk jugs, and the occasional wayward grandchild.

The notion of Rapparee becoming an overheated gas molecule is charming, not because it is novel, but because it brings to light the uncharitable thought that so many have harbored secretly for so very long. This serves as a Public Good by relieving the population at large of a dark secret they can finally let go of.

Chongo is every bit as upset about specism as you are, Donuel, and he intends to do something about it just as soon as he takes power in Washington. And I'm not talking about half-measures here. Oh, no. There will be blood.

Chongx's blood. Chimpanzees (Pan Troglodytes)have probably (probability +90%) spread Ebola, paralytic poliomyelitis, yaws, pubic lice, the chickenpox/shingles virus, tuberculosis, HIV, hepatitis, cerebral infarction, pulmonary atherosclerosis, and anthrax to humans (Homo Sapiens) over the years. The original strain of yaws evolved into syphilis. They are also the "primary engine" behind the building resistance of disease to antibiotics, including clindomycin, penicillin, and many others.

This is not "specism" but documented fact, including studies by the World Health Organization, the Centers of Disease Control, Canadian National Institute of Health, Robert Koch-Instituts, Santé publique France, Inserm, ??????????, and many others. These are calling for the quarantine of all chimpanzees in a fenced and patrolled reservation in Africa operated under the aegis of WHO.

Blood? Hemorrhagic fever! Chongx is nothing but a bloated bladder of disease!

Chongo is NOT sexist! Far from it. He is courteous and respectful to women. He is merciless to those who would dare to abuse women, verbally or physically. He is a true gentleman. The fact that he uses old 1940's style jargon such as "dame" or "skirt" does not change that one iota. You should judge a Chimp by his *actions*, not by what accustomed cultural dialect he uses.

Judged by his actions the Chumpchimp (I shall refer to he/she/it by that term) is an astonishingly bad piece of maladroit...well, I shan't finish that thought. Chumpchimp sold her/his twin sister AND mother into a Life of Shame to pay for a gender-change operation and to be smuggled in a load of bananas to the port of New York. Chumpchimp's poor mother died of heartbreak to think that her offspring would do such a thing; sister Chinga did her best for her poor mother but she, too, was shocked by the crass and evil (there is no other word) actions of her sibling. Years later she told a reporter in an interview for Paris-Match how she held her dying mother in her arms and of her mother's last words, "Daughter, never forget what has been done to us. Revenge me, revenge yourself. No one else will. I forgive you for it, and I hope that YOU can forgive me for bringing such a monster into the world." Chinga went on in the only work she knew and after grueling work now owns the world's largest (and poshest) chain of bordellos in the world. Her underworld and overworld connections make it certain that someday, perhaps soon, her sibling will be hung up by an 'added member' and used as first a piñata, then a target, and finally as the main dish for a bushmeat barbecue. At least, that was her last plan.

Heh! Heh! I do find much amusement in these lurid tales Rapparee makes up about the noble Chongo. Florid stuff indeed. He has missed his calling. He should have become a writer of pulp fiction in its glory days back in the 1950's and early 60's. Oh, what the world has missed! It's kind of sad, really.

Wht's sad is the super-dense wilful obliviousness with which Chongo refuses to face up to the enormity of his sins against his poor little sister and his aged, infirm mother, abandoned to their own devices lo, these many years past in the jungles of Uganda. THAT's what's sad!

He will pay the piper someday for his callous cruelty. Just you wait and see.

And now that Chinga has become a successful madame of a growing simian prostitution ring, with flourishing branch offices in Chicago, San Francisco, New York and Pocatello, Idaho, she will have the means to exact her pound of stinking, flea-infested, filth-laden, whiskey-soaked, cigar-stinking ,furry flesh.

You forgot feces-flinging, Amos. Also noxious, putrid, moldering, feculent, squalid, odious, malodorous, contemptible, and nauseating. Chumpchimp has its good points, however, for without it many fleas and untold numbers of lice would be without a home.

In previous election cycles, Chongo's proclivity for poop-flinging has been detrimental to his campaign. However, given that the current resident of The White House shares that proclivity, the public has become somewhat inured to seeing shit thrown about the halls of power during fits of presidential pique.

All Chongo would need to work on would be his ability to fling poop by Twitter as well as he already does in 3D.